


Helpless

by trulybetold



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Hamilton - Freeform, History, Musicals, Sunsets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6501082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulybetold/pseuds/trulybetold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myka's totally a theatre nerd and Helena is completely intrigued by this Broadway business, and Myka, of course. Claudia and Pete have doubts that a musical about the founding fathers could ever be interesting, but Steve and Myka are prepared to show the gang the genius work that is Hamilton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helpless

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this was an excuse to bring together two of my loves, Hamilton and Bering and Wells. Spoilers if you've not listened to or seen Hamilton. Story takes place in some alternate-ish universe where Helena is reinstated permanently has an agent and Pyka never existed. So, as it should be.

There was plenty Helena had discovered since being rehabilitated. She learnt there was a world outside of the doom and gloom the Bronze had instilled in her mind. A world truly full of endless wonder. And it didn’t always mean places like the Grand Canyon or meeting someone as delightful as that First Lady, Michelle. No, sometimes, the things of endless wonder simply meant an afternoon spent with her favorite people in the warm, lovely place she called home.

The B & B was hardly still. With six agents presiding there, the bustling was almost never ending and that’s exactly how Helena liked it. Keeping busy meant keeping her mind active, away from thoughts of guilt and gore. Yes, the rehab to determine her ability to function as a Warehouse agent was successful, but sometimes, the thoughts of, or rather the guilt of, what she had attempted wore at her. But, each day spent around the most diverse group of personalities kept her sane. Each day, she grew a little less bitter and regretful. Each day, Helena discovered moments to keep living for instead of moments to hide from or destroy.

Often, these moments were simple. She had seen wonderful, amazing things and met geniuses and artists and inventors. But, the moments Helena thinks of most fondly are spent with those she’s learned to call her family: Claudia, Pete, Leena, Steve, even Artie, and of course, Myka. Together, they resided in the B&B and Helena wouldn’t have it any other way.

She’s tucked into an armchair in the living room, reading some comic book Claudia suggested. There’s a lot to take in about these ‘X-Men’ but Helena finds their origins intriguing nonetheless. She’s turning another page when she hears something akin to a squeal and a plea. Pete’s scampered down the stairs, throwing his head back in a raucous cackle. He’s got something clutched in his fingers and quickly tucks it into the back of his pants. The plea belongs to Myka, she’s frazzled, chasing after him, a mixture of amusement and panic painting her cheeks red.

“Pete,” Her voice is hard, but there’s a tugging smile at her lips. “Give it back. You promised.”

“That was before you descended into the farthest depths of nerd-dom.” They’re at an impasse in the foyer of the B&B, frozen in some sort of tense, goofy standoff.

Myka furrows her brow, thrusting her hand out before her, “Pete. Give it back,” she warns. Her chest is heaving and her loose t-shirt hangs deliciously low on her arm and Helena can’t help but swallow thickly, both amused by the quarrel and charmed by Myka’s appearance. How she always looks so beautiful is beyond even Helena’s comprehension. She sets the comic down, leaning forward in the chair to get a better view.

Pete and Myka stand approximately four feet away, their eyes locked. Pete stands with his hands balled in fists in faux-threat while Myka’s are widespread, waiting to catch him if he makes the mistake to whiz by. Helena smiles. Pete doesn’t stand a chance. Myka is the fastest of them all, she’s watched Myka outrun many assailants before and surely, a doughy, laughing Pete would be no contest. Helena once asked Myka how she had become such an impressive sprinter and Myka shrugged, a smug expression on her face “Track team. High school _and_ college. Went to state twice.” Helena had simply smiled at the thought of Myka in her glasses and skimpy athletic shorts before the curly haired women burst from her side to tackle a perp in a New York alleyway.

A loud bumbling laugh brought her from her reverie, and Helena props her head on her hand to continue witnessing this rather childish, but entertaining, argument. “Pete, you’re being a jerk,” Myka narrows her eyes. “You promised if I showed you, you wouldn’t laugh.”

“Wouldn’t laugh at what?” Claudia enters the living room with a donut hanging out of her mouth.

“There’s donuts?” Pete’s eyes grow the size of saucers. Myka takes this distraction to dive for the object tucked in Pete’s pants, but another hand snatches the object and Myka braces herself against the staircase, blowing a stray curl away from her lips.

“Steve,” Myka asks, exasperated. “That’s mine.” Helena’s curiosity grows. “Pete,” she sighs, “is being a complete asshat.”

Steve laughs and wipes donut sprinkles from his scuff. “What’s this now?” He flips the item over and his eyes and mouth go wide. “You… like… _Hamilton?”_

Pete slaps his knee, laughing, “Right? Total nerd.”

“I _love_ this musical,” Steve whispers gently, his eyes practically sparkling.

“Thank you. Finally, someone with some class,” Myka sneers, crossing her arms. “It’s not lame, Pete. You’re just uncultured.”

Holding her hands up, Claudia quirks her brow. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up, here. Jinksy say what what?”

“What?” Jinks repeats, the joke lost on him.

“No one gets me,” the redhead groans at Trailer, the dog saunters by with a hint of pink frosting on his whiskers. “What’s Hamilton?”

Steve puts a hand to his chest, clearly wounded and Myka leans against the staircase with a smug look on her cheeks again. It’s rare to see that smirk, but when she does, it melts Helena’s insides. He clears his throat and says in a dramatically calm voice, “ _Hamilton_ is the most influential, inspiring musical of our time. Lin-Manuel Miranda’s tale of the ‘bastard, orphan, son of a whore’ through the stylings of hip-hop and rap with an ethnically diverse cast is beyond what any other composer, director, or author could ever hope to achieve.” He throws his arms up in wonderment. “He’s a genius.”

Pete groans with his mouth wide, “Jinks, really, dude?”

“ _I_ love the theatre,” Jinks pokes himself in the chest. “It’s my only true gay stereotype.”

“So, what is it about?” Helena asks from the living room. Everyone turns to her, noticing her presence for the first time. She shrugs and asks again, “Musical? Is it an opera?”

“It’s embarrassing, it what it is,” Pete guffaws. Somehow a chocolate donut has made its way into his hand and he takes a huge bite. “Mykes, I kept your secret for long enough, but historical rap musicals about dead presidents is where I draw the line.”

Myka steals the donut and moves into the chair next to Helena, her eyes are trained hard on Pete’s. “Okay, first of all, Hamilton was never a president, you’d know that if you listened to ‘The Reynolds Pamphlet”. Or maybe paid attention to high school U.S. Government. Secondly, you are a jerk. You swore.” She’s pointing a finger at him, tone accusatory.

Pete whimpers at his donut loss and rolls his eyes, “ _I’m sorry_ ,” he says sarcastically, “That U.S. History before World War II is totally boring but I’m not sorry that _your_ super nerd secret got out.” Helena raises a brow and catches Pete’s attention. “Myka loves musicals.” He sighs loudly, “Ugh! So glad I could get that burden off my chest, oh my, god. Do you all know how many pings I’ve had to investigate with the cast of _Rent_ or _Wicked_ playing in the background? And god forbid we leave the B&B for a single night without _Chicago_ or _Newsies.”_ He slumps into the couch and lets out a hard breath, “Oh, god. That felt great. I feel the weight of the world easing off me.”

Myka sneers at his words, “Well, I’m _sorry_ my attempt to culture and educate you has been so rough.” She crosses her arms in defense.

Before Helena can pry further on this whole musical business, which she doesn’t quite understand, Claudia lets out a soft laugh. “Myka, were you a theatre nerd?”

“Is!” Pete shouts. “ _Is_ a theatre nerd.”

Myka tosses a pillow at him, and teasingly finishes the last bite of donut. “Delicious.” She smiles and he pouts.  

Helena interrupts the banter, “Uhm, yes, Bronzed one here is having some difficulty grasping what his argument is about?” She points at Pete, “Are you accusing Myka of being a… ‘nerd’,” she gestures with finger quotations, an colloquialism she picked up from Claudia, “Simply because she enjoys plays? Back in my day-“

“Oh, here we go,” Pete whines.

“Dude, have you even listened to it?” Steve interrupts from the doorway, still eyeing the back of the item. “Myka, I for one, I glad Pete outted you. It was about time this place had another appreciating person of song and dance.” He tosses the item to Claudia and the redhead scans the back.

“’Cabinet Battle Number One’, really, dude?” Claudia asks, giggling.

Steve crosses his arms as well, “You like _Grease_ and that has got to be-“

“Don’t you dare speak ill of _Grease_ , it’s an American institution, Jinksy!” Claudia defends.

Steve holds his hands up in neutrality, “I’m just saying. You all should give it a _shot._ ” He smiles, “See what I did there, Myka?”

“Yes, Jinks. Thank you,” Myka laughs.

Helena sighs, “Will someone explain all this _musical_ business to me?” She hated not understanding something about this new century. Especially, if it was something Myka was interested in.

Myka nodded, glancing to the air for a sense of explanation before deciding where to start. “Alexander Hamilton was a founding father of America-“

“Ah, yes. I met his youngest son once, Philip, when I visited New York. I was sixteen,” Helena regards her memory, eyes distant in recalling the events of her summer in North America. “Hmm, no fifteen. Yes, fifteen. He spoke very highly of his father, quite the admirable family, if I do say so myself.”

Everyone’s eyes practically bug out of their head, but Pete is the first to speak, “You _knew_ Alexander Hamilton’s son?”

“Well, I only knew him briefly. He was married to my cousin, Rebecca, after all. I only spent a month at their estate with my brother before we moved up north to stay with friends in Canada.” She sighs fondly remembering that summer in Poughkeepsie, before returning back to the conversation. “So, this musical-“

“Jesus, H.G., sometimes I legit forget you were born a century ago,” Claudia huffs out with wonderment.

“Thank you, Claudia,” Helena states sarcastically. “I, for one, do not. Considering, I have absolutely no clue to what you’re all on about. This play, or opera, about Sir Hamilton’s father is so exceedingly confusing.”

Myka laughs, gently. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh,” she smiles.

“Yet, here you are,” Helena quirks a brow, a smirk teasing the corner of her lips. One she reserves just for Myka. The woman blushes and Helena’s smirk grows into a smile, proud of her success in painting Myka’s cheeks pink.

They all share a chuckle before Myka pinches her brow. “Musicals are like plays, but they sing and dance to tell a story, similar to an opera but minus the unintelligible, high-pitched songs. Plus, the ones on Broadway are in English, so that makes things a bit easier for us to understand.”

“Broadway?” Helena inquires.

Jinks steps forward, sitting on the edge of the couch. “It’s where all the big musicals make it, well, big. Everyone who’s anyone started out on Broadway, Patti LuPone, Bernadette Peters, Julie Andrews-“

Helena interrupted, “All women?”

Myka finishes, “Well, then you’ve got Nathan Lane, Jonathon Groff, and of course, Lin-Manuel Miranda, the guy who wrote _Hamilton_.”

“Broadway, hmm?” Helena wonders. “Where is such a place?”

“The Big Apple!” Claudia cries happily. “New York City!”

 Helena turns to Myka, “Is it available to watch? I’d be incredibly interested in seeing it. If it’s as amazing as you say, then for my first Broadway musical experience, I would very much like to see this _Hamilton_.” She smiles kindly at Myka and the curly haired agent blushes again slightly.

“Tickets are practically impossible. They’re crazy expensive and the show’s sold out until, like, August.” Myka says sadly. Her face brightens though when she offers another idea. “We could always listen to the show. Claud?” The redhead smiles before handing the item, which Helena can tell now is a CD case, to Myka. Myka gives it to Helena, “The whole show. Well, most of it, I’m sure. Minus the dancing.”

“Darling, I would love to.” Helena coos, handing the CD to Myka. Claudia and Pete share the same expression, rolled eyes and dramatic kissy faces.

Pete stands and Myka snaps her fingers at him, “Whoa, you’re not going anywhere until you’ve listened to this whole thing,” She’s waving the CD at him and he groans. “Don’t be a baby.”

“Fiiiinnnee,” He whines. “But, only if I can make everyone a few drinks first. Virgin, for me, obviously. I feel like something fruity,” he laughs out the side his mouth.

“Margaritas!” Claudia shouts, clapping her hands wildly. “I’m on it! Petey, let’s get a move on!” She and Pete migrate to the kitchen and it’s a surprising few seconds later that the blender is on and screeching in the distance.

Clapping his hands, Steve practically jumps with excitement. “I’ll get my boombox. He flashes a bright smile and bounds up the stairs. A second later, it’s just Helena and Myka in the living room. There’s a comfortable silence between them, but Helena breaks it, her mind racing with curiosity. “What was Pete’s promise, exactly?”

“Hmm?”

“You said Pete promised, that he swore. Swore to what?” Helena twisted her body in Myka’s direction.

Myka lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “Not a lot of people like Broadway or musicals anymore these days. I’ve always been teased for it, so I just told him to keep that little factoid to himself.”

“People are fools,” Helena regards, a smirk gracing her lips. “People can’t appreciate true beauty.”

“I suppose-“

“Especially, not when she’s right in front of them.” Helena’s curled into the chair, her eyes glinting with mischievousness.

Myka blushes for the tenth time, “Are we talking about a person or a thing?”

“I’ll let you decide,” Helena responds, brushing a free strand of hair behind her ear. “But, now that you’ve mentioned it, have I told you how lovely you look this afternoon?”

Myka sits forward, her ears red with the compliment. “No, but if you’re good, maybe you can tell me later.” It’s Helena this time who blushes with Myka’s boldness. The moment is soon interrupted with Steve, Pete, and Claudia all entering the living room at the same time. Claudia’s arms wrap around an exceedingly large bowl of popcorn, while Pete carries a tray of margaritas. Steve puts the CD into the boombox and plugs it in.

The drinks are dispersed, Claudia finding purchase at the feet of Helena. Pete lounges on the couch while Jinks sits on the floor between him and Myka. Myka tucks her feet under her, finding a throw from the back of the chair and wrapping her arms in it.

They’re a few songs in, and Helena is fascinated. Helena’s always been brilliant, a child prodigy grew into well-spoken, bright young woman who then became an accomplished inventor, scientist, and author. It’s not arrogance or conceitedness, it just simply is. However, even with her quick-working mind and ability to multitask, Helena is having trouble keeping up with the rapid lyricism sounding from Steve’s boombox. The music and vocals are incredibly impressive, as Myka said. Helena’s enjoying herself and her company, if only it weren’t for the constant distraction in the armchair.  

Helena’s eyes can’t help but draw occasionally, actually frequently, to Myka’s features, her wide smile and bright eyes. The group converses, Pete keeps teasing but Helena notices the rhythmic tapping of his foot. Claudia is impressed with the rapping, while Steve mouths the words with ease. Myka offers little facts along the way, about the musical itself or other interesting historical points she’s found from years and years of reading.

The inventor knew of Myka’s fondness for knowledge and reading, it was definitely no secret. Pete teases her often, and Claudia does occasionally. Once, she told Helena that Myka liked “the boring stuff, all that ye ole time history stuff. I prefer the cool, new stuff. Technology, science, all that. I mean, you get it, right H.G.?” Helena kindly reminded Claudia that she was from that ‘ole time era’, and loved history and technology congruently. Claudia had mumbled something under her breath about soulmates but Helena left well enough alone.

Finding out about another one of Myka’s interests feels like a triumph. Just observing her reactions to the songs erupting from the speakers gives Helena a bubbling sensation in her stomach Leena once described as ‘butterflies’. Helena loved Myka’s mind, the way it worked, constantly deciphering, questioning, informing, and figuring. Myka was one of the few people in this century whom she felt her intelligence was matched. Myka understood her, appreciated her intellect and valued her thoughts. And while Helena felt she returned the notion, there was still so much about Myka Helena had yet to discover. The fascination for this musical theater business, for one, was a welcome finding simply because how it made Myka smile.

Helena’s thoughts are again interrupted when Myka bursts into laughter, the sounds positively contagious she can’t help but grin. Steve is very into the current song, a faux-French accent and spitting the lyrics as quickly as the original singer. It’s truly impressive and Claudia eggs him on, hollering praise and even Pete’s enjoying the show. It appears everyone is on round two with their margaritas, and Helena completely forgot about hers, bringing the salted glass to her lips and taking a heavy drink. It’s powerful with tequila, a type of liquor she is not too fond of. Why anyone would drink this over gin is beyond her, but she partakes regardless.

Several songs later, the room is buzzing. Myka and Steve take turns singing bits and pieces of songs, and they’re actually not half bad. Pete and Claudia have grown to liking this _Hamilton_ and try themselves to pick up words and phrases, occasionally taking a moment to dance like a couple of fools. Helena is beside herself with laughter, possibly augmented by the tequila and definitely induced by the group’s foolery. Then, laughter fades into a respectful and thoughtful quietness as the songs reflect the tragedy of the first Philip’s death and the scandalous nature of Hamilton’s infidelity.

Helena reminisces of that summer spent with her cousin, Rebecca and her husband, Philip. Truly hospitable, kind people, Philip spoke wonderfully of his father, but more so of his mother, Eliza. The song ‘It’s Quiet Uptown’ especially brings a slight pang of sadness to Helena’s mind because it makes her think of Christina, and she finds herself discreetly wiping a tear from her eye. Well, perhaps not so discreetly, when she catches Myka’s eye, the woman giving her a sad frown, a nod of understanding and a silent apology.

The musical soon concludes with the death of Alexander Hamilton by the hands of his long-time friend and enemy, Aaron Burr. Helena joins the others in a playful round of applause, the pitcher of margaritas now empty and bits of popcorn strewn about the floor. Pete is the first to speak. “Well, Mykes, I gotta hand it to you. That was pretty badass. Still nerdy, but badass.”

“See?!” Myka exclaims, collapsing her head against the back of the chair. “Pete, I’ve told you a million times, musical theater is amazing.”

Claudia finishes her third, or maybe fourth drink, saying between hiccups, “That Angelica Schyler, total hero status.” She moves to take the empty glasses into the kitchen, asking Pete and Steve for their help. Pete’s telling Steve they should totally rehearse the Cabinet Battles and Steve simply laughs, stating an agreement if he can be Jefferson. The noise of their chatter fades as they disappear into the kitchen, once again leaving Myka and Helena to themselves.

There’s a few moments of silence before Myka says to Helena with slight hesitancy, “Do you… Do you want to take a walk with me?”

“I’d love to.”

Outside, the weather is comfortably cool. The sun is almost setting, and Myka fidgets, stuffing her hands in her pockets. She’s nervous and Helena’s not sure why. They head in the direction of the sun, where the dirt road leading to the B & B fades into an open field. They walk in comfortable silence, despite Myka’s fairly obvious skittish behavior, until they reach an old wooden fence. Myka clamors onto it, perching herself haphazardly until Helena’s hands steady her back and she blushes with embarrassment. “One too many margaritas, I guess,” she laughs awkwardly, holding onto the fence with both hands. Helena ducks between the rails, opting to lean against the wood instead. She rests her elbows behind her on the fence, eyes trained on the setting sun. There’s another beat of silence before Myka asks softly, as if afraid to break the ambiance of the setting light and cool breeze, “So, did you like it? _Hamilton?”_

Helena’s lips break into a wide, kind smile. “Darling, it was sensational. Truly a work of genius. I was completely floored by the performance-“

“Okay, okay,” Myka laughs, “Come on. Be serious.”

Helena turns to Myka, a flat, but smiling expression on her face. “I liked it, I truly did.” This answer definitely appeases Myka, a smug expression growing on her lips reminiscent of a small victory.

“Good.”

The inventor nods, biting her lip. There’s so much she wants to ask Myka, but yet, she can’t find the right way to phrase any of them. She’s enjoying this, the quiet with Myka, and in any other situation, she’d probably shamelessly flirt with Myka and provoke a blush. But, the stillness of being outside, and being together, she’s happy to simply live in this moment right now, revel in learning yet another interesting fact of Myka’s life and know there are so many more to follow.

Myka still fidgets on her perch and Helena lets out a soft giggle. “For goodness sakes, if balancing on that beam is so distressful get down here.” She tugs playfully at Myka’s hand, successfully bringing her down. Myka bumps into her, and mutters an apology, poking fun at her own clumsiness. “And don’t you dare blame those blasted tequila drinks. Balance is not your strong suit, my dear.”

A hearty laugh erupts of Myka’s throat and she buries her face in her hands, “I have long limbs, I can’t help it!” she laughs. “Sometimes I just don’t know where to put them,” she confesses, throwing her hands at her sides for dramatic effect.

“I know where you can put them,” Helena winks, succeeding in creating a streak of red on Myka’s cheeks. The moment of stillness is receding and the blush creeping up Myka’s neck emboldens the inventor. Helena moves slightly closer, stretching a hand along the fence behind Myka’s back. “I was on my best behavior all afternoon, I’d like to point out.”

Rolling her eyes, Myka sighs. “You were.”

Helena inches closer, her hand completely on the other side of Myka’s hip. She’s close enough to smell the lingering scent of apples that seems to follow the agent everywhere. “I do believe that gives me the opportunity to express how incredibly beautiful you look this evening, especially here, in the sunlight.” Myka groans, pressing her face into her hands and laughing lightly. She’s leaning slightly into Helena’s side, and the inventor hope it’s not under the guise of alcohol, but she decides to take a risk and pulls Myka in closer. The agent lets her, resting her head comfortably on Helena’s shoulder despite being taller. She finally relaxes and Helena’s hand finds purchase just above Myka’s hip. “Even when you’re jittery and nervous, you’re still a dream.”

“Stop,” Myka whines, “You’re making me blush.”

“That’s the point, my love.” Helena declares proudly, squeezing her tighter. “Though, may I inquire to your slightly tense behavior?”

“Tense?” Myka pulls back, putting a foot of distance between them. “I’m not tense.”

“Myka.”

“I’m fine,” Myka shrugs.

Helena rolls her eyes. “Myka Ophelia Bering, what could possibly be so irksome?”

“The fact that Pete told you my middle name, for one,” Myka says, taking a few steps away.

The inventor moves also, stepping right behind her as Myka continues along the fence. “Your middle name is enchanting, darling. Remember, you’re talking to the woman whose father insisted on keeping the name George because ‘it’s a family name’”.

Myka turns, considering the sentiment before scrunching her nose. “Yeah, but George suits you. Ophelia’s so girly.” She spins around and continues her walk. “Don’t you think?”

“Not at all, darling. I think it’s perfect.” Helena says, a smile on her lips. She picks up her pace to catch up with Myka’s long strides. “If fact, it’s probably one of my favorite things I’ve learnt about you.”

Shaking her head with a laugh, Myka raises her brow, skeptical. “Really?”

Helena shrugs, and lets out a soft laugh, hoping it coats the slight flushed embarrassment she knows she’s about to feel. “It’s just that, well, there are so many endlessly fascinating, wonderful things about this world, and yet still, I find myself solely, perhaps almost devotedly, enamored with one single subject.”

“And what might that be?” Myka asks tentatively.

“You.” Helena stops walking, pausing and resting a hand on the fence. Myka takes a few steps forward still, then comes to a slow stop. Her back is to Helena and there’s a pregnant pause between them.

“You.” Myka replies, frustration lacing her tone. She turns and sighs.

“Me?” Helena asks, confused.

The agent strides over and pokes Helena in the chest. “Yes. You. You make me all twitchy and nervous. Not all the time. Not when we’re with everyone else or we’re out looking for artifacts. But, like, right now. Us, here, alone.” And before Helena can ask why, Myka gives her an answer. “Because every time we’re alone, I just really want to kiss you.”

The inventor’s jaw drops slightly, she feels her heart race and she runs a hand through her hair. Myka starts to walk backwards, slowly and lets out a defeated laugh. “Oh, wow. I’m gonna just keep walking until I find a cliff and then jump off.” Myka turns and moves a little faster, burying her hands in her hair and letting out a frustrated moan. “I’m such an idiot,” Helena hears her mutter.

“Myka, stop,” Helena calls after her. “Myka, please!” She shouts, jogging to catch the woman in front of her. She pulls on Myka’s hand, bringing them both to a halt. “Your love for reading.”

“My what?” Myka asks.

“That’s the first true thing I learned about you.” Myka’s puzzled. Helena’s more than welcome to clarify. “When I first met you-“

“At gunpoint?” Myka laughs.

Helena smiles, “After the gunpoint, love. I learned of your love for reading and history. Of your knack for making exceptionally delicious blueberry muffins. How you spend your Saturday mornings with the New York Times crossword. You were state champion in track, twice. You get homesick for the Rockies and the Colorado breweries. You love your sister, Tracy, and her children dearly. You are a whiz with vehicles, puzzles, and keeping Pete fed well enough to prevent his food-related tantrums. You believe whole-heartedly in the Warehouse’s mission. You’d do anything to protect it and its agents.” She moves closer, taking her hand and looking her happily in the eyes, almost tearfully. “And, darling, I _know_ that I’ve desperately wanted to kiss you for a very long time.”

Helena doesn’t waste another second. She places one hand on the back of Myka’s neck, the other finding her waist and pulls her close. Their noses touch accidently for a moment before Helena presses her lips against Myka's. The agent smiles against Helena, pressing their lips together as she slides her arms around Helena’s neck.

The inventor revels in the sensation. Myka’s lips are full and soft, just as she anticipated yet somehow better. The scent of apples drifts in the air around them, and Helena’s knees almost go weak when she feels Myka’s tongue brush her bottom lip. Myka smiles again, laughing against Helena’s mouth and pulls away shyly. She lets her head rest on Helena’s collarbone and places a small kiss there. “That was… long overdue.”

Helena agrees, kissing Myka’s head. “Truly was, my darling. Now, I know one more thing about you.”

“What’s that?” Myka grins, lifting her head to have green eyes meet brown ones. The setting sun warms Helena’s skin and casts Myka in a dreamy, orange light. Myka’s hands are still around Helena’s neck, laced together like she had done it a thousand times before. Helena brushes a stray curl from Myka’s face, pressing another gentle kiss to her lips.

“You are a wonderful kisser, Myka Ophelia Bering.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, if you got to the end! It was a little short fic I couldn't get out of my head. P.S. that business about the youngest Hamilton? Partially true. Turns out, Philip Hamilton (the last son) was married to a woman named Rebecca Wells. How totally weird but convenient for this fic! Thanks again for reading :)


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